


That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates

by lynnieminnie



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: bagginshield, but if you want it to be then kudos to you, like not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnieminnie/pseuds/lynnieminnie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hobbit who lived through the Battle of the Five Armies returned home unscathed... or so they all thought. </p>
<p>After his return, he relives the day Gandalf shoved 13 dwarves into his home, except now he wants to welcome them.</p>
<p>He expects them to turn up for 4 o'clock tea, except they don't.</p>
<p>He's a lonely soul who has troubles and an oak to shield his home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I haven't ever written in Bilbo's perspective before.  
> I actually haven't written anything like this in a while.
> 
> I hope you all like it.
> 
> I think this'll be a one chapter sort of thing, due to the fact this is more or less a 'warm-up'
> 
> I'm just trying to get back into the swing of things.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it. Please comment constructive criticism and whatnot.
> 
> If you have a request, please ask away.

****

It had been a plain day, like most others Bilbo had to endure in his ordinary life. The temperature that day was average; not too hot, not too cold. The slight breeze added a slight chill to the air, so he wore one of his warmer vests. It was getting to be about midday, the sun gracing the sky straight above the hobbit. He reached for the pipe that he had sat next to him on the bench right outside his hobbit hole. For the past few moments, he was letting the sun’s warm soak his face, and he smiled slightly as it did so. With his other hand, he pinched some tobacco out of the jar he kept it in, which also sat beside him. Bilbo proceeded to light the tobacco, after it was in the pipe of course. Blowing smoke rings, he sat and competed with himself, trying to create bigger rings each time. This was merely to pass time, of course, for he was expecting someone any minute now. He took a pause from his smoking to enjoy tea, which was at four in the afternoon, like he had told his long awaited guests.

The sun now sat on the horizon, much like his lazy relatives, the Sackville-Bagginses, sat on the couch and nagged all day. The poor hobbit still held a grudge over Lobelia trying to run off with his silverware. Bilbo pressed his palms on the edge of the bench and gave him a little push to help him get on his feet. Stretching his limbs briefly, he glanced left and right, still awaiting his visitor to stop by. Knowing he could stall no longer, the hobbit went off to the market in search of tonight’s supper. He passed friends and relatives, giving them a polite, curt nod as he walked by. He didn't dare stop to say hello because there was still a chance of having his guest stop by, and he didn't want to stand around making small talk with those he saw on a daily basis. Pushing past a small crowd gathered at the entrance of the market, he searched for the fish stall. His guest ate almost anything you put in front of him, and he seemed to have taken a liking to the fish Bilbo made the last time he visited.

"'Ello there, Mr. Bilbo. Will you have the usual?" A voice called to him on the opposite side of where he was standing. Sighing irritably, he trekked over to the merchant for his dinner. Why the marketplace was busier than usually was a surprise to Bilbo, but it was one he cared not to know.

"Yes, yes, Moto, the usual will do," Bilbo huffed, tapping his hairy foot impatiently as the other hobbit took his leisurely time wrapping the fish. Today, he didn't anticipate a crowd, so he was a bit behind schedule, which would not do. Not do at all.

"'Er ye are, Mr. Bilbo," Moto began. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be attending the party later tonight, will ye? It'll be the shindig of the year!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he retorted with mock amusement, sarcasm laced throughout his comment. Sadly, most of the inhabitants of the Shire were too dull to ever pick up on his sneering. 

"That's the spirit, Mr. Bilbo! Be seein' ye!" Moto smiled widely, showing his broken and yellowed teeth. Bilbo grimaced in return and hurried off back to his hobbit hole, hoping they didn't arrive whilst he was out.

Starting a fire to cook the fish on, he got out some rolls he had made fresh a few days previous, and he made sure there was plenty of food and drink in his pantry. His friends have quite the appetite. After sauteing the fish, he set it out on the dining table and waited. It had probably been about thirty good minutes before Bilbo decided to eat the fish himself. He didn’t want it getting cold. The hobbit consumed it slowly, trying to stall for time. He didn’t want his guest to think he wasn’t invited to eat with him.   
  


After finishing the fish, along with a few rolls, he sat and waited until well after curfew. He got up only to sit and watch out the window. Maybe they lost their way twice. The party going on down at the foot of the hills sure seemed enjoyable. Maybe they got mixed up in that, drinking to their heart’s content, and passed out somewhere. Whatever the case, Bilbo decided that had happened and he planned on seeing his friends tomorrow.

* * *

 

 

The morning after the party, Bilbo awoke and extended his arms, stretching them. He smiled as he glanced out his window. It was indeed a fine day to enjoy some company. Although he had a schedule to upkeep, the hobbit thought he could spare a few minutes. Walking a steady pace, he headed over to where last night’s festivities were held. Moto spotted Bilbo and he called out to him.   
  
“Mr. Bilbo! Where were ye last night? Ye missed yer own party!” Bilbo was taken aback but he quickly recovered. 

 

“My... party? No, there were no parties for me. Nope, none at all. I was expecting company and your racket probably drove them away. Why would there be a party for me in the first place?” Moto put down the plates he had acquired as he went through finding dirty dishes and he smiled sadly. 

 

“Mr. Bilbo, it’s been a year since you’ve been home from your journey.” Moto paused to display a sour look. Adventures sound like no fun. What sane hobbit would willingly give up second breakfast? The merchant hobbit could’ve sworn that was blasphemy. “We were meanin’ on celebratin’ your return.”

 

Bilbo cleared his throat and glanced at the ground, shifting between his feet awkwardly. 

 

“Well don’t get too used to me being around. They’ll come around again any day, you’ll see. We’ll go on another adventure. All fourteen of us.” The other hobbit’s eyes widened when he heard how many people accompanied Bilbo on the quest.   
  
“Fourteen! That’s quite the number. What were their names?” Bilbo swallowed the sobs welling up in his throat.    
  


“Well, there was Dwalin, Balin, Fili and Kili, Ori, Dori, Nori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur.....” Bilbo trailed off. He looked to his hobbit hole and started stammering about being late for his visitors. Moto counted the names as Bilbo listed them off with a heavy heart. Bilbo turned away to walk back home, but he was stopped by Moto’s confused tone.    
  
“Mr. Bilbo, that’s only twelve. Thirteen counting yerself. Who’s the last one? Didja forget ‘im?” Turning sharply, he faced Moto and spoke angrily.

 

“No, I most certainly not forget him,” he spat. His hands went into the pockets of the vest he was wearing. In one pocket, it was his ring, now on a nice gold chain which it hangs from whenever Bilbo wanted to admire it. In the other was the acorn from Beorn’s garden. He pulled it out and while it rested in his palm, he ran his thumb over it’s surface. 

 

“Was his name Acorn?” Moto squinted his eyes and stared at the one Bilbo had cradled in his hand. Bilbo let out a sigh and closed his eyes. The irritation was obviously displayed on his face but Moto was too dim to realize.   
  
“His name is- well,  was Thorin Oakenshield.” Bilbo opened his eyes and looked away from Moto, fearing that tears may escape when he did not want them too. Moto nodded thoughtfully and looked at the acorn resting in the other hobbit’s palm.

 

“Oaks trees are strong. It seems like Thorin was as well, Mr. Bilbo.” Many emotions crossed Bilbo Baggin’s mind at the point, but his face became blank and expressionless.   
  
“Not strong enough apparently.” Bilbo stuffed the acorn back into his pocket and spun on his heel. 

 

“You ‘ave a good day, Mr. Baggins! May ye plant that acorn so you’ll always have an oak shielding yer home!” Bilbo nodded and flashed Moto a small smile before practically running back to his home. After slamming his round door shut, he slid down to the ground, and tears escaped like he once did in the Elven King’s dungeons. 

 

Riddle-maker. Barrel-rider. Luck-wearer. He may as well add acorn hoarder to the list of whatever else he claimed to be. He took the brown nut out once more, turning it over in his hand. Curling his fingers around it, he lifted his hand to his face and kissed the acorn that Thorin had marvelled at. 

 

“My shield of oak,” he whispered to himself, a smile creeping up on his dismal face. Pressing his empty hand on the ground, he pushed off the floor and stood up to look out the window. It was approaching midday, which meant it was time for some Old Toby. He sat on the bench like he did every day and watched the world around him swell with life until it was teatime, which he obviously took the time to enjoy. After that, as I’m sure you can guess, Bilbo headed off to get his fresh fish from Moto. Today, however, he only made it halfway to the market because Moto intercepted him on his way there.   
  


“Maybe I should start a delivery service. Sure would help me work off the belly I’ve been addin’ to so much.” Bilbo thanked him for the halfway delivery and paid him, then went home to eat. 

 

He sauteed the fish and sprinkled it with a light seasoning for extra flavor. Bilbo even added some squash to the dish because he was hungrier than usual. He sat and waited just in case someone happened to stop by, but no one did. No one has for the past year. But that doesn’t mean they never will. After consuming the last few bites, he walked over to the sink with his plate because there were enough dishes for him to actually care about washing. 

 

He put the stopper in and poured in a few inches of water from the well and he let the plates soak. It was well after dark when he sat by the fireside and hummed to himself. After reminiscing on a few songs the dwarves taught him, he decided it was time to stop procrastinating and wash the dishes. Bilbo grabbed the sponge that he kept in a cabinet near the sink and he got to work, still humming along. 

  
“That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates...” 

 

 

by: lynnieminnie

instagram: [company.of.fourteen](https://instagram.com/company.of.fourteen/)


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